Colorblind? No.

Several weeks ago, on a trip to Walmart, my 3 year old said to the check-out lady, "I really like your colors. Your arm is pretty." My heart skipped a few beats as I looked up to see the response on her face. You see, this woman was African-American. I can't tell you how thankful I am that she understood my son was giving her a very high compliment. I have mulled this incident over and over in my mind. Certainly I am not the first parent with a preschooler who felt the need to audibly verbalize every thought in his precocious head. In looking for methods for explaining races to a preschooler, I came up discouraged and irritated.

It seems the prevailing thought is to teach children to be colorblind. How stupid. (Hang with me here.) That would be like teaching a child that all of his/her toys are green. Of course you could teach your child that everything is green, but she would clearly know that not everything is green and that you are not being forthright with her. One explanation I read proposed that perhaps we aren't different colors at all, but rather varying shades of the same color. I don't really know how I feel about that, so I put the thought on the back-burner. The fact of the matter is we are very afraid of race issues. Do you wonder what would happen if we quit fearing race issues and embraced our different skin colors? This is why I have decided to say a very firm "no" to the theory of teaching my child to be colorblind.

In every other area of life, be it flowers, trees, animals or food, my child is taught to embrace the creativity of our Creator. (Gen 1:27) Why would the subject of race be treated any differently? People come in all sorts of shapes, sizes and colors...and this is a wonderful and beautiful fact! What a creative God I have! A God who does not make us all the same, but creates beautiful hues of skin color. Gorgeous browns that have the sheen of silk, rich olives that radiate in the sun, lovely yellows that set off the richest of colors in a way that no other skin tone possibly could. One popular Christian speaker says, "Let's be color-BLESSED."

Our family sponsors a beautiful young lady who lives in a Kenyan orphanage. We love Esther dearly and have the opportunity to be her 'parents' by way of financially caring for her, sending letters of encouragement and ensuring that her health, her education and her physical needs are met. We pray for her continually and have pictures of her throughout our home. On Mother's Day of this year I received a letter from my Esther. The letter still brings me to tears and is kept with all of her other letters and pictures alongside Jackson and Bryant's baby books. The sentence that gets me every single time I read it is this, "I love you very much, my good parents and I love my brothers, Jackson and Baby Bryant." Jackson asks about Esther quite often. He once asked, "Can my sister have different colors on her than me?" I answered him with an emphatic "Yes!"

After much, much thought on this subject I decided to learn from my child. He sees different skin colors as beautiful. He sees them a blessing and a thing to embrace. Why explain things in any other manner? When my children question me about race my answer will be simple. My answer will be, "God, in His love and creativity, made us all different and that is a very good thing."

For by Him, all things were created... Col 1:16

Crudites

For as long as I can remember, my mom always served a vegetable tray at our holiday dinners. The tray included carrots, celery, cherry tomatoes, pickles and olives. Sometimes mom would even give me the opportunity to arrange the tray. We would usually snack on the 'relish tray' as we waited for the main meal to be served. It was not until I was planning my annual Bastille Day meal that I learned this quaint relish try had a much more impressive name- Crudites. (Pronounced- croodeetay) Doesn't everything sound more refined, expensive and exciting when in French?

Several days ago we were driving to the grocery store for a normal, ho-hum trip. As we were getting into the car, my imaginative Jackson said, "Let's 'tend that your car is a spaceship and we're going to the sky!" Suddenly the ho-hum trip became a much more exciting adventure. This trip was complete with shooting stars, friendly aliens and colorful planets surrounding us. Imaginative 3 year olds sure can make the mundane much more fun! What a great lesson for me. Why do everyday tasks have to be ho-hum? It's sort of like those raw carrots; if you call it a crudite that raw carrot suddenly seems much more exciting than merely a raw carrot.

Everyday has the potential to be extraordinary, even if it is filled with just regular tasks. If you know me, you know that I do not live in a fantasy world nor do I advocate living outside the realm of reality. However, as I have discovered of late, it becomes very easy to fall into a rut of routine. I'll admit, it is awfully tricky to make folding clothes a whole lot of fun, but as Mary Poppins said, "In every job that must be done there is an element of fun, you find the fun and....snap!...the job's a game." It's all in what you make of it. Raw carrots or crudites?

The Men In My Life

The arrival of our new little boy means I am officially outnumbered at our house. 3 boys, 1 girl. Our cat is a girl, but since she seems to be waging war on my carpet and nightly tries to steal my pillow, I'd hardly put her in my camp. Anybody want a cat? Thankfully, all of my boys seem to respect the carpet and none of them have tried to steal my pillow. Stealing sleep is a completely different issue.

Our younger son, Bryant, arrived at 2:45am on February 9th. He has been an absolute joy to our family and we are so very thankful for him. His arrival has caused me to reflect upon some of the wise parenting advice given to me over the years. Shortly after Jackson's arrival, my Grandma Marge wisely told me that I should always be mindful of the fact that I am not raising children, I am raising adults. Digesting these words can cause a new mama to feel quite daunted, but these words have actually given me much courage and purpose.

I'll be the first to admit that being a full-time mommy can sometimes feel a little mundane and purposeless. (Is purposeless a word? You understand what I mean so therefore, it is!) It is in the seemingly purposeless moments of picking up plastic soldiers, cleaning peanut buttery fingerprints off of the table and folding tiny socks that I am reminded of my Grandma's wisdom. As I require Jackson to do more chores around the house I sometimes think, "Gee whiz, this would be so much easier and faster to just do this myself." Then the words remind me that patiently teaching my son to pick up his toys results in far more than the temporary result of a clean home, it results in teaching long-term responsibility and work ethic. Certainly there are more anecdotal examples, but I think you get the idea. Continually reminding myself of my Grandma's wisdom has truly shaped my mothering and makes the seemingly mundane tasks of the day look more like an investment than a mere chore. Isn't that what we are doing, for better or worse, investing in our children's character?

Let us be challenged with the knowledge that everyday events, activities and tasks are opportunities to shape our 'adults in training.' A daunting task? Most certainly! I find myself praying for wisdom quite often. What a precious promise we have in James 1:5 "But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men generously and without reproach." Let us also be encouraged with the knowledge that the seeds we sow today, seeds that might seem insignificant and tiny, will grow in time.

Ewwww!!!! Termites!!!

When my husband and I moved to our new home in Bluewater Bay we were warmly welcomed to our new neighborhood and then quickly warned about swarm. What is "swarm" you ask? Swarm is when the termites make their yearly visit. We very promptly contacted our pest control company and had our house treated and inspected. The very nice inspector told me that although our house was treated, termites would still show up but would quickly die upon arrival. So when I walked into my kitchen and saw many near-death termites earlier this week, I calmly dealt with the situation. Hahahaha! In reality, I quietly freaked out (didn't want to scare the babies) and called my husband. Kyle did what any sensitive husband would do- he called the pest control man. His statement? "If they're on the floor that means they didn't find a place to nest, but I'll come and check....if mama's not happy ain't nobody happy!"

It may be a cliche phrase, but there is quite a lot of truth in it. Mothers have the ability to set the tone of the home. Let us never underestimate our power and influence as mothers. James Robison sums up this idea best with the following: "Attitude creates atmosphere, atmosphere creates climate and climate creates a culture." Isn't that what we all hope to do? Create a culture through our children? I firmly believe that our homes are the most influential place for children, whether good or bad. Permit me to make Robison's statement as practical as possible. If we, as mothers, have an attitude of complaint we create an atmosphere of discontent and therefore a climate of want which leads to a culture of greed.

Anyone who knows me at all knows that Corrie Ten Boom is one of my personal heroes. What a remarkable and brave woman. During WWII Corrie, along with her elderly father and sister, hid many Jewish families. Unfortunately, they were caught by the Nazis and sent to various Concentration Camps, ending at the notorious Ravensbruck. In her book, The Hiding Place, Ten Boom explains why she was so thankful for the lice and fleas that infested her bunkhouse at the camp. (You'll have to read the book to find out why!) What an amazing attitude in such a deplorable situation. Would anyone look down on her had she complained of the lice and fleas? Probably not. How much more should I be thankful for my day to day life? Thankful for a working washer and dryer. Thankful for the laundry because it means that I have two healthy and growing boys and the means to clothe them. Thankful for the crumbs on the dining room table because it means my family is fed and has a place to eat. Thankful for so, so much.

Many other attitudes could be tested by Robison's thought. What does an attitude of easy frustration cause? What about an attitude of laziness? But what if we, as mothers, committed to having an attitude of grace, mercy, patience, gentleness, understanding and joy? What sort of culture could we produce? Let us not take our jobs lightly. Let us go about our jobs as mothers with great fervor and intention.

"Whatever you do, do it to the glory of God." 1 Cor. 10:31

Back to those pesky and nasty termites. Am I thankful for them? Well, I'm thankful that they aren't nesting in my house. But I bet Mike, our kindly pest control man, is very thankful for our dead termites. After all, those pesky things provide him with a job and for that, I am grateful.

Sorrows Like Sea Billows

Have you ever kept yourself from crying because you just knew that if you started it might not stop? That's me this morning. Everything within me wants to just weep. I don't mean just a few tears, I'm talking about the kind of sobbing that involves the entire body. You see, a friend of mine died yesterday. He fought a very hard 8 month battle with stomach cancer and leaves behind a young wife and infant son. Life on this earth is not fair and sometimes it just downright stinks. Understand my sobbing is not for him, but for his wife and son. I am certain he now resides in Heaven without cancer and therefore I have great joy for him. The extreme sorrow I feel is for his family. As a mother to a little boy who adores his daddy, my heart absolutely breaks at the thought that this little boy won't have his daddy to play with, learn from and adore. As a wife who is madly in love with her husband, my heart bleeds for this young woman.

For as long as I can remember I've always used music as an outlet for my emotions. Of course this is not a new concept. The Bible, along with other ancient texts, shows much evidence that this has been a practice of people for many centuries. Most beloved hymns were written out of trials or sorrows and are rich with comfort through truth. Since learning of my friend's death I have been continually singing the words to the hymn, "It Is Well." The hymn-writer knew great sorrow before penning the words to this hymn. His wife and daughters had just died in a tragic accident at sea. He opens his hymn with the following words:
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Isn't it interesting that he compares peace to a body of water? I recently learned a little bit about rivers through a Bible study I am in the midst of completing. Rivers aren't really all that peaceful but instead are quite active. Perhaps that is this hymn-writer's point. He knew having peace in his life was a result of an active relationship with Jesus. Furthermore, rivers are always connected to 2 other bodies of water- a source and an outlet. And so it is with peace, it must be connected to a source. The final thought on rivers and peace would be the fact that it is impossible to see the source and the outlet of a river at one time. Unlike an average sized lake, where the boundaries can all be seen in one panoramic sweep, a river's end cannot be seen from a river's beginning. I think peace is much the same way. At the beginning of a trial or season of sorrow we cannot see the end, but if there is a beginning there will be an ending.

A seldom sung, yet beautiful verse from the aforementioned hymn seems the most fitting way to close this post.

For me be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live
If Jordan above me shall roll
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul
-Horatio Spafford

Coach Kyle

I can tell you quite a few details about the day I met my husband. He was wearing khaki shorts, brown sandals, a blue shirt with a horizontal yellow stripe across the chest and he looked GOOD. Really, really good. But had someone told me that he would become my husband 22 months later I would have rolled my eyes in response. I completely misjudged him in our initial meeting. Don't judge a book by the cover, right? On the day we married, I knew I truly loved him and there were no doubts in my head or heart. We spent a little over a year having fun, figuring each other out and just enjoying each other's presence. I thought he was just fabulous, but it was not until October 25th, 2007 that I started to completely understand the extent of this.

I woke up on the morning of the 25th and realized I was in labor. Not wanting to wake up my peacefully sleeping husband, I took a shower, started a load of laundry and did a little yoga before waking him. Our drive to the hospital wasn't a silly drama-filled experience as portrayed on tv; instead we were filled with excitement and laughed most of the way there. As labor progressed, we moved from laughing to umm..... well....not laughing.

To fully understand the rest of the story, it is important to note that when people learned we planned on having a natural delivery we were met with all sorts of comments and "advice." Most of the comments centered around how Kyle would not be able to say or do anything right and I would be screaming obscenities at him. Well, we DID deliver naturally and there were NO obscenities and Kyle did EVERYTHING right. I'm sure Kyle's memory is a bit different than mine, but he was a fantastic coach. And when I say "we did deliver..." I truly mean WE. Sure, my body was doing the physical work, but Kyle did a lot of the work too. One thing is really evident in looking at pictures of the hours just after Jackson's birth - Kyle looked exhausted. His emotional, mental and spiritual support through Jackson's delivery was hard work! But more importantly, his support was evidence of God's perfect ability as 'matchmaker.'

We are approaching the last few days of our current pregnancy and although I am not excited about the pain of labor, I am looking forward to the bonding that I get to experience with Kyle. Am I completely smitten with him? Yep! Unashamedly so. My mom often says that marriage must be a team effort. I am so thankful that Kyle is the head coach for Team Olson.

And so, Kyle Olson, I'm awfully glad you made it home in time for us to be together for the delivery of our little boy! I love you and like you more and more each day.

Yes, Westboro Baptist, there is a Savior

Over the centuries many groups have manipulated the message of the Bible to suit their selfish ambitions. Horrible dictators and cult leaders have used its ancient pages to cause great harm to millions. Unfortunately, many church leaders over the centuries have also used the Bible in a multitude of selfish ways. Case in point, Westboro Baptist. There are few groups on earth who disgust me as much as this particular group. My disgust comes from the very fact that they claim to be followers of the same God and the same Savior as me and yet I find no Biblical backing for their actions.

Last Sunday evening my Dad and I were discussing the horrible shooting spree in Arizona. One of us mentioned that it would not be surprising if the people from Westboro made an unwanted appearance at the victims' funerals. Guess what I happened to see on a news website the very next morning? You got it. Westboro plans to demonstrate at the funerals of the victims. Classy. Real classy.

It absolutely turns my stomach to see this hate-filled behavior from anyone, but when it comes from people who claim to share my faith it makes my blood boil. These people have absolutely no Biblical foundation to stand upon. In fact, the Bible says that God is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18, 147:3) and has sent a Savior to bind up those who are brokenhearted. (Isaiah 61:1) Furthermore, the Jesus Christ I know and read about is a Man of great kindness and is one who GIVES dignity. Perhaps the zealots at Westboro should read a bit more deeply into the story of the adulterous woman. Jesus didn't stand up with hate-filled, condemning signs at the woman's stoning. Just the opposite! Displaying much grace and love, He intervened on her behalf and wisely drew attention to the fact that those men who were so ready to throw stones were not blameless. The fact of the matter is that Jesus was most harsh and critical of the sanctimonious religious leaders who were very quick to condemn and mistreat.

What I most detest about groups like Westboro is that because of their selfish and manipulative motives, these groups completely misrepresent the Gospel of Christ. These people seem to think (based upon their actions) they somehow earned God's love on their own and no one else could possibly attain what they have attained. Well, Westboro Baptist, Christ died for ALL. He died for those you target and prey upon. Christ's love and sacrifice was not contingent upon our goodness, our righteousness or our accomplishments. Nor was His sacrifice contingent upon whether we would accept His offer of salvation. We can ALL stand forgiven at the cross. "God demonstrates His love for us in that while we were STILL SINNERS, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8 Yes, Westboro Baptist, there is a Savior whose forgiveness and love are not contingent upon your opinions.